Cops and Robbers
by Eva Alt
Summary: When they were young, they always played the same game. A series of loosely connected vignettes about Mako and Bolin's childhood.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Avatar: Legend of Korra, or any intellectual property derived therefrom. I do not derive any income or other benefit from posting the story below.

Cops and Robbers

* * *

><p>"Stop! You're under arrest!" The black-haired boy was grinning as he chased after his lighter-haired brother.<p>

"Haha! You can't catch me, copper!" The younger boy shouted. His green eyes sparkled as he vaulted over a crate of apples, spilling a few, and dodged around a cart piled high with cabbages.

Mako slid feet-first past the still-startled grocer and under the cart, nearly horizontal as he used his momentum to carry him clear. He used one muddy hand to push himself back into a sprint as he pounded after Bolin.

Further down the alley, the younger boy slapped the brick wall as he ran by. A few small chunks of masonry slid out from the wall, floating in midair for a moment before the stocky young earthbender swung his arm behind him, batting the fragments back toward his pursuer.

Most of the pieces flew wild, skittering along the packed dirt ground or careening off a wall far above Mako's head. Mako ducked one lucky shot, and spun sideways to avoid a second. It slowed him down a little, but not enough to matter. Bolin was almost as tall as he, despite their difference in age, but not nearly as quick.

The two tore out of the alley, around a corner, and onto the sidewalk of a paved street. Bolin dodged around the pedestrians, with Mako only a few paces behind. Men in rounded hats and women in the brightly colored dresses shouted and tried to get out of the way.

The two boys chased each other down the street, over a white cobbled bridge and into the Memorial Park. Bolin hopped over a low white chain strung between posts lining the edge of the grass, blithely ignoring the "Please Stay Off Grass" sign neatly hanging from the chain. Mako skidded to a halt, barely keeping himself from tripping over the chain and onto the bright green grass.

His brother, knowing he was safe for the moment, slowed to a walk. Panting, he went to lean against a tree with white bark and thick, waxy foliage that had been trimmed into a careful sphere.

Mako crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. "Get out of there, Bolin." He used his best older-brother voice. He was proud of how his words came out. They were gruff, adult-sounding. He hoped his gold-flecked pupils caught the light in an appropriately threatening manner.

Bolin just stuck his tongue out.

"I mean it!"

Bolin reached into his baggy, too-large shirt and pulled out an apple. He took a huge bite, juice dripping down his chin, and slouched lazily against the tree.

"Erraaah!" Mako punched the air, shooting a fist-sized ball of flame at his brother. Who, understandably, ducked. The flames slammed into the tree, leaving a black scorch-mark on the previously unblemished trunk. The smell of smoke and charred wood floated through the air.

The younger boy's eyes slid up to gaze at the still-sizzling wound. "Uhmm..."

Something whizzed by Mako's head, slamming into Bolin. Two somethings, actually, one for each arm. The metal cables curved and pulled upwards, leaving the boy dangling by his wrists, a few feet off the ground. Bolin's apple fell from his hand and thudded softly into the grass. Mako gulped and turned around. A metalbender.

The officer was standing quite a ways away, on the highest point of the bridge into the park. The late afternoon sun stretched his shadow before him, reaching almost to Mako's feet. His arms were raised in an earthbending posture, controlling the metal arms that had caught Bolin. The officer's armor was ringed, black metal. A dark cap shadowed his face, and for a minute, he looked too familiar. Too much like Dad.

The officer lowered his arms, depositing Mako's brother safely on the gravel path. Bolin started rubbing his wrists as soon as he was released, as the metalbender strode down the bridge to tower over them.

"Unauthorized bending and destruction of public property. What do you have to say for yourselves?" His voice was low, threatening. Nothing like Dad's rough but warm tones.

"Sorry," Mako mumbled, looking down. _Please don't arrest us please don't..._

Bolin looked up angrily. "We were just fooling! We didn't do anything wrong!"

In other circumstances, Mako would have slapped some sense into his brother. This was no time to argue! Instead, he stepped forward, still not looking up.

"It's my fault, officer. Please don't blame my brother." From the corner of his eye, he could see the metal arms moving.

"Firebenders," the man said. Mako could hear the sneer in his voice. Beside him, Bolin clenched his fists, but, thankfully, he kept quiet. "You people cause more trouble than all the other benders combined. At least you seem to have a little control of your temper." With a _shick_, the cables withdrew back into the metalbender's armor.

"I see you set anything else on fire, anything, and you and your brother will both be in a cooler." The officer turned away and walked back to the street, where he shot up and off along the ubiquitous wires strung between the upper levels of the buildings.

Mako stood there for a minute, not trusting himself to move. Next to him, Bolin relaxed and spun around, stretching.

"Welp, that was fun!" He tugged on his older brother's ragged sleeve. "It's almost sunset. Time to go home, right?"

Mako sighed, a long deep breath that released all the air in his lungs. He looked up. "Yeah, let's head back."

As they walked away from the park, Bolin reached into his tunic and pulled out another piece of fruit. "Want an apple? I've got lots."

* * *

><p>Thanks for reading! This is my first ever piece of fanfic, so reviews and constructive criticism are desperately welcomed.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

To Waffles Risa - Aww, you caught me! I purposely didn't include their ages because I haven't set the timeline for all the scenes in my head. That, and as far as I can tell, the writers for the show haven't yet disclosed how far apart in age Mako and Bolin actually are, so I wanted to leave some room for fudging when their ages do get announced. However, I imagine Mako to be about 13 or 14 in the last chapter, and Bolin to be at most two years younger. In this chapter, they are significantly younger. Thanks for the review! (It's my first ever, and I will love it and hug it and treasure it forever.)

Usual Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Avatar: Legend of Korra, or any intellectual property derived therefrom. I do not derive any income or other benefit from posting the story below.

**Chapter 2**

* * *

><p>Every day, after classes, the parents who didn't have work stopped by Harmony Blossom Elementary School to take their children home. Some students, those who were nine years or older, were allowed to leave on their own, to walk or ride the wire trolleys home. The rest were stuck until their parents came by in the evenings. Every day, after classes, they gathered in the schoolyard, shuttered from the street behind tall green gates, vaguely overseen by a rotating schedule of teachers on late duty. The teachers didn't do much, really, other than sit by the gate and make sure no one left without permission or parent. The children had to find ways to keep themselves entertained.<p>

The youngest kids had a playground near the gate, where the teachers could watch over them from the seats without having to move. There were a couple of tables so the kids could do their homework while waiting, but no one ever used them, of course. Instead, those too big for the swing set and too young to leave spent their time playing games on the Field. It wasn't really a field, since it was paved, and it was officially the Assembly Ground, but everyone called it the Field, even the teachers. The Field was a dusty place, trampled grass and weedy stems growing in sparse, sad clumps through cracks in the pavement. As this was a school with bender children, there were a lot of cracks.

Mako was only eight, but he felt older. With a little brother like Bolin to watch over, of course he was more responsible than the average eight year old. Not that it mattered to the teachers. He wasn't nine yet, so he couldn't leave by himself. And even if he was, he'd still have to wait for Bolin.

He and Bolin were always among the last to get picked up, since their parents couldn't leave work early. He didn't use to mind staying late, since most of his friends did too. But two months ago Saizen and Dochay had both turned nine, and last month it was Anka. So now, every day after school the three of them would wave good-bye to him and walk out past the gates together, leaving Mako alone with the younger kids. Instead of having fun with his classmates, he had to wait with Bolin's friends.

It would probably have been okay if they had something interesting to do while waiting. But lately, the game had always been exactly the same. He blamed the girl.

Yath was the youngest in their group, and the only girl, but she was by far the bossiest. She always took charge of their games. Mako hadn't cared, in the beginning, but it was getting to be Too Much. Whenever they played cops and robbers, which was most days, the two cops were always Yath, and either Bolin or Zuni. Never Mako.

"Zuni and I will be the cops and you two will be the robbers." The girl pointed her finger first at Bolin, then at Mako.

Mako crossed his arms. "I want to be a cop this time! I always get stuck being a robber!"

Yath rolled her obnoxiously green eyes at him. "You can't be a cop, stupid. You're a firebender!"

"What? That's not fair!"

Yath snorted. "There's no such thing as a firebender cop. What would they do, set the criminals on fire?"

"They could fight the firebender crooks!"

"Yeah, and set the city on fire instead. Great plan, genius. Can't believe the Chief didn't think of that one." Mako sensed he wasn't winning this point, but he wasn't about to give in.

"But Zuni can't bend at all!"

"Yeah, but there are lots of cops who can't bend. You know that. 'Sides, he's the oldest. He gets to be the cop 'cause he's the oldest!" Behind Yath, Zuni shrugged.

"Zuni's only a week older than me! That doesn't count!"

"Yes it does! He could be only a second older than you and he'd still be the oldest!" Yath stomped her foot, creating yet another crack in the abused pavement.

Bolin grinned lopsidedly. "Don't worry, Mako. Being robbers is more fun anyway."

Mako glared. As usual, it had no effect on his brother.

"Besides, big bro, you're the fastest. If you're a cop the game would be over in a couple minutes."

Mako opened his mouth to retort, but paused mid-breath. That gave him an idea. "Not if you have a head start...?"

Bolin raised one hand and tapped his chin, trying to look thoughtful. To his older brother, who was all too familiar with his terrible acting, it didn't look at all convincing. "Yeah...that would work." The boy grinned again. "I'll bet I can get halfway across the Field if you count to twenty!"

"You're on."

It was Yath's turn to protest. "He's still a firebender, and firebenders still can't be cops! It's not right!"

It's not right? What was that supposed to mean? Mako clenched his fists, but Bolin spoke up first. "So he won't firebend. He's pretending to be a cop. He can pretend to be a non-bender too. Or, 'unno, throw rocks or something."

"Pff, I won't need to throw things, little brother. I can catch you just fine without any bending."

Yath threw up her arms. "Fine!"

"Fine!"

"Awesome!"

Zuni just shrugged again.

* * *

><p><em>[<strong>Edit:<strong> Due to The Revelations, I've had to change the ages of Mako and Borin in this chapter, and make a couple other minor edits. Sadly, now I think they might be a bit too young for these interactions to be believable. Oh well. I know eventually I won't be able to massage my story to match LoK and I will have to diverge from canon, but I want to keep it consistent for as long as I can! My original author's note is below, for posterity._

_Sadly, other parts of episode 3 have thrown a monkey wrench in the next scene I had planned. I originally was going to guess that one of Mako and Bolin's parents had died or left early, but apparently **(Spoiler!)** it was a Batman-style loss. Hm, Mako as Batman. Yes!]_

**A/N:** Yath is what her teachers would call "precocious." I think Bolin would also be rather fast on the uptake for social situations like this argument, since he's clearly the more social of the two brothers. But what do you guys think? Did I write their behavior age-appropriately? I'm not sure that at the rather tender age of 9 (almost 10) _[now 8]_ that Mako would be quite mature enough to come up with the head start solution, but it's been a long time since I was 10_[8]_.

Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks for your reviews! This chapter takes place the evening after the previous chapter. Without any further adieu,

**Chapter 3**

* * *

><p>That night, after dinner, Mako helps his dad with the dishes. Father and son stand side by side in the kitchen. To reach the drying rack, the boy balances on a small wooden stool that raises him just high enough that his head is level with his father's broad shoulders. The boy's thin, spindly figure is nothing like his father's solid earthbender's form. However, in the dimly lit kitchen, Mako's black hair cannot be distinguished from his father's short-cropped brown locks. Their hair even misbehave in the same way, with the same errant tufts that flip up above their foreheads. The dishes clatter softly in the soapy water as Mako waits for his father to pass him something to dry. Through the doorway behind them, yelps and scattered thumps echo from the sitting room. The Bath Chase had begun.<p>

Bolin never goes quietly to his nightly bath. Even as a baby, just barely learned to crawl, he would hide as soon as he heard the water running. When he learned to walk, he almost immediately picked up running as well, which made him a lot harder to catch. For a while, both parents were needed to catch their younger son, and they sometimes recruited their older son to help. There were more than a few wobbly chairs and scattered scorch marks on the walls.

With time, age, and, Mako hopes, maturity, his little brother had become less determined in his nightly escape attempts. He also had gotten (slightly) more considerate of the furniture, which made the nightly chases (slightly) more sedate. It remained as a nightly ritual with only two participants now, conducted by mother and son while father and son washed the dishes. Mako could only pray that someday Bolin would grow out of them entirely.

Mako hears an unusually loud thump, followed almost immediately by a crash. Father and son cringe in unison in the sudden, brief silence that follows. Then twin peals of laughter ring out from the other room. Bolin's laugh is a whooping shriek of joy while their mother's laugh is high and bright, like the flicker of lamplight in winter.

There is another thump, and their mother shouts in triumph as Bolin's startled yelp dissolves into giggles. She must have finally managed to corner Bolin, and, with some judicious tickling, was dragging him away for his bath. Bolin's protests and shrieks of laughter cut off with a splash. Mako sighs and shakes his head.

Usually Mako takes advantage of Bolin's distraction to pepper his father with questions about metalbending and criminal investigations and what it is like to work for Chief Bei Fong and where the team had hidden Lieutenant Anbu's helmet. His father looks forward to their nightly conversations, especially given his son's typical reserve. That night, however, Mako is quiet.

In the absence of questions, his father tells stories about his day, trying to test the limits of his son's reticence. He has gone through three tales already, without a word from the boy. The last had been a repeat of yesterday's, which normally Mako would have protested furiously. The father launches into another story, this one about how their airship had accidentally climbed too high over the city and crashed into the moon.

"Everything was white and cold, like one of the poles. Did you know the moon is made of ice? That's why it shines." The father finishes rinsing off a plate and hands it to his son, who dutifully wipes it down, still not looking up.

The man shrugs to himself, and continues, "We got off the ship to explore, but before we got three steps, an angry man in blue came out of nowhere, waving a boomerang in one hand." He passes a bowl down to his son, who dries that too and places it in the dish rack.

"Anyway, the crazy man tossed the boomerang at Lieutenant Anbu, who ducked out of the way and demanded to know who the crazy man was. The crazy man shouted something about the Moon Water Tribe and protecting a princess.

"Well, we were going to ask him about the princess, but just then there was a terrible clanging, and Lieutenant Anbu fell right over. Turns out we'd all forgotten that -"

"Dad?"

The man stops, and looks down at his son. "What is it, Mako?"

"Is it true that firebenders can't be cops?"

Mako still hasn't looked up. He continues, "I know I can't be one of the elites, Dad. I'm not an earthbender like you."

The father looks away, seemingly engrossed by the soapsuds in the sink. His next words come out quiet and slow. "There are a few firebenders who work in the district offices. But they don't use their bending, and they don't go out on patrol."

Mako hunches over. "I don't want some boring job at a desk. I want to use my bending to help people."

"There are some jobs that use firebending. The foundries and power plants can always use more firebenders, and the most famous chefs are all firebenders." Mako snorts with the derision only a child can master.

"His father tries another tack. "Most benders don't do jobs that require their bending. You can find a job that lets you help people that way."

Mako finally does look up then, his face filled with hope. "Then can't I be a regular cop on the street, and just not use my bending?"

His father opens his mouth, but then found he didn't know what to say. "Mako...Officers on patrol..." He stops, and tries again.

"When a man is surprised or suddenly put in danger, their first instinct is always to lash out. For benders, this means they'll bend at whatever is threatening them.

"That's always dangerous to non-benders, but earthbending and waterbending are easier to control. Police on the street never know if they're going to run into a crime in progress, and a surprised bender can cause a lot of damage."

Mako frowns, clearly thinking things through. "But there are waterbending cops. Even regular earthbending cops."

"And they're very carefully trained. But accidents still happen. And if an earthbender stops bending a boulder, it falls down. If a waterbender stops bending, the water stops being dangerous. But not fire. Fire keeps burning. One careless moment, and even a weak firebender could set someone on fire. The police can't afford that. The city can't afford it."

Mako clenches his fists. "That's not fair. It's not firebenders' fault that fire burns things. It's fire!"

"Some things aren't fair." Mako's father is quiet, but Mako can hear the rumbling below the words, hard as metal and as unyielding as stone. "Not even in this city, which was founded to be fair to everyone."

A soft voice drifts from the doorway. "But don't let that stop you." His mother's slim, familiar form is outlined by the light streaming in from the living room. Her gold eyes gleam in the dim light.

She walks into the kitchen. A few strands of fine black hair have escaped their careful ties and hang loose in front of her face, the only sign of the earlier chase. She is wearing a green dress, embroidered with fire lilies, and the skirt flares out around her ankles. She leans down and pulls Mako in close for a hug, and he releases a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.

"If you want to use your bending to help people, you will find a way. If something isn't fair, change it!"

Mako's father grimaces at his wife over Mako's head, where his son can't see. The world doesn't work that way, not that she would ever admit it. She smiles back at him, as their son buries his face in her dress. She would never stop believing otherwise.

Their son pulls away, and she lets him go. His eyes glisten in the light - too bright to be entirely dry, but no tears escape. His parents wisely do not notice. She tousles his hair, and rests one hand gently on her husband's shoulder before turning away.

"You still have dishes to finish," she says as she exits back through the doorway. "And Bolin is probably almost done with his bath by now." With that, she's gone.

Father and son look at each other. The father grins.

"So...want to bet on what they broke this time?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Boomerang *always* comes back. Even when it's an imaginary boomerang in a tall tale told by a metalbender to his firebender son. Though I can definitely imagine the water tribes having a legend about their lost sister tribe on the Moon.

I thought about making Mako and Bolin's mother the metalbender officer of the story, since the red scarf pretty much screams that, in canon, their dad was the one with Fire Nation heritage. But the world already has too many awesome metalbending women. Also, it would have involved substantial rewriting and going back to edit chapter 1 again. And I have delayed enough!

Speaking of which, I'm sorry it's been so long since the last chapter. There will likely continue to be long waits between chapters, but since I don't plan on having any cliffhangers in this series, I hope no one minds _too_ much. Part of the delay this time was because I had originally planned for Mako and Bolin's father to be a single parent, but then canon revealed otherwise. I also don't like how this chapter came out and spent a lot of time trying to make it more interesting. I'd appreciate feedback on whether that worked (or not)!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

* * *

><p>Their father's funeral was first, and well-attended by cops and well-wishers alike. Everyone had liked the cheerful officer who told ridiculous stories. The people from Dad's team had taken care of everything, banding together to pay for most of the funeral costs. Lieutenant Anbu had even convinced the Chief to assign some officers from another precinct to their office for the day, so everyone who had worked with Dad could take the day off to attend. Even so, it wasn't an official officer's funeral, with the uniforms and salutes and speeches from city officials, because their father hadn't been on duty when he was attacked. When he died.<p>

Mako wasn't sure exactly what had happened; no one wanted to tell the children how, exactly, their father had been killed. But it was all over the radio and newspapers.

"Metalbending Officer Slain in Mugging Gone Wrong" screamed one headline. "Firebender slays Off-Duty Officer, Non-bending Wife in Critical Condition" announced another.

After the first day, the articles about their parents were moved further back in the papers, the headlines smaller, though no less painful. "Wife of Slain Officer Remains in Coma." "Operation Ash Captures Cop-Killing Bender. Too Little, Too Late?"

Mako wanted to read everything, listen to every special report. It hurt, but he wanted to _know_. But he couldn't. He had to watch Bolin, and Bolin burst into tears every time someone mentioned the mugging, or Dad. So Mako kept the radio off, or turned to one of the jazzy music stations. He hid the newspapers. He made sandwiches. For a while, they kept going to school, but everyone knew what had happened, and even the teachers couldn't look them in the eye. Especially after school, when the other kids their age had to stay to wait for their parents. Mako would grab Bolin's hand and they would trudge through the school's green gates, knowing their friends, and everyone else in the schoolyard, were watching them leave. One day, without discussing it, they just stopped going.

They spent most of their time in the hospital anyhow, waiting for their mother to wake up.

She never did.

Her funeral was three weeks after Dad's, in the same temple, with the same priest. A few of the officers attended, but they told Mako that the others couldn't afford to take more time off so soon. Mom had a lot of friends though, and they all came. Even the old man who ran the grocery down the street came, his wrinkled felt cap clutched in his gnarled hands. They all brought flowers.

Mom loved flowers, and they all knew it. White lilies and roses and all sorts of other blossoms Mako couldn't identify filled the temple. They hung from wreaths, cascaded over the casket, overflowed from baskets. It was beautiful, but their rich, too-sweet perfumes overpowered the smell of the incense, and made Mako feel like he was drowning in petals.

Some days later, some people started coming by to see them. A woman and a monk. The woman called herself a grief counselor. She came by once a week, always Tuesday afternoons, and stayed for exactly half an hour each time. She talked too much. She told them she was there if they needed someone to explain things, or if they wanted to talk about their feelings. She asked if they were going to school, if they had any other family, what they planned to do. She said if they didn't have family, the city had "institutional support" for kids like them. There was the Agni Center, and Pebble House, where she thought they would fit in well. Bolin threw a tantrum at the last part. Mako told her they had an aunt coming, but she lived on the other side of the Earth Kingdom, so it was going to take a while.

The monk didn't call himself anything. He brought tea, sometimes dumplings. Sometimes, he hugged Bolin and let the boy cry into his shoulder. Mako didn't cry then, but he appreciated the gesture.

There were a lot of bills. Hospital bills, mostly. But also ones for food, for rent, for electricity. They ran out of money the first month, and the landlord kicked them out six weeks later. Mako didn't tell the woman anything on her last visit. He didn't tell the monk, either, but he did thank him. It was only proper.

They took almost nothing with them when they left. There wasn't much left to take. Bolin clutched a small pin that had been their mother's, a green stone carved as a monkey holding a peach, set in gold. It had been a birthday present from their father. Mako wore their dad's soft red scarf. He remembered watching their mother knit it by firelight last year, her secret project in the evenings after their father had gone to bed. Most firebenders had trouble staying up so late, but Mako liked it. Their mother had always joked that it was the only advantage Mako had inherited from their father's side of the family. Their father always responded that Bolin slept enough for both brothers. Had always responded.

They stood on the steps of their home for the last time. It was early, just past dawn, and Bolin was blinking sleepily, not really awake yet. Mako shouldered his schoolbag, swollen not with books but with a blanket and clothes. With his other hand, he reached down to grab Bolin's.

"No matter what happens now, we're going to stick together just like this okay, Bolin?"

His little brother nodded up at him.

"Always."


End file.
